


One Globe for Two

by Alex_The_Cat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: F/M, Fate, Feelings, Forbidden Love, Love, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Smut, Temptation, after Golden Globe, fighting in the brain, fucking & watching, inability to overcome something, kimilia, stupidness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_The_Cat/pseuds/Alex_The_Cat
Summary: Hello everybody)As a Jonerys fan, I love J&D very much, but the story of these two real guys hurts me deeper and burns brighter... I fought with my mind, trying not to imagine and to write nothing about them, but unsuccessfully...So, it's my first (and the only for now) Kimilia fic. And it's also my first one, translated in English.This story was born almost itself, when I was watching Golden Globe video and gif-pictures, and my 'bad' imagination drew all these fictional events, happening after the ceremony...Characters are nameless, cause there are ony two, He and She, to exist in this tiny and cosy world. And yes, I'm a little ashamed))) (... but less day past day;).And there is one more thing I'd also like to tell: I'm comletely sure, that these two are real lovers. They were, they are, and they will be. One may define it like some kind of madness, well, I don't mind... I feel so and I'm sure, that thousands & thousands of people even miles & kilometers away cannot mistaken, watching their burning  and brilliant chemistry through space and time...I dedicate this work to my friend Natalie, my Jonerys & Kimilia co-fan. Love you, darling, you're my personal muse***





	1. Listen

"What's going on, Harington? You're angry all evening long. Bloody hell, awake!"

She also was on her own limit of patience. Those bloody heels frazzled her feet till they started to ache unbearably; her dress reminded about itself persistently, requiring attention and caution. She was counting hours and minutes till that very moment when she could dump those damn clothes, crawl under the soft, cosy blanket and get asleep... But one more challenge was waiting that night - Golden Globe banquet.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he threw his words scornfully. He didn't care about anyone except himself and was completely disable to stand his inner agony.

She looked into his dark eyes strictly.

"What does it mean: _you can't_? Try it! You're spoiling. Come on, actor, just act like a gentleman."

She knew what had his behavior meant. Nobody caused such emotions get out of him, only she did. It looked like an another _Emilia Clarke overdose_ had happened to him. But at that very moment there wasn't any reason for that. They had't seen each other for a long time, then they met for just some hours and almost had't deal together, they had no common filmings yet, that's why there wasn't any visible occasion for their proximity and following nervous moments. They only visited some events, with no messeges, no calls, no rendezvous.

How could she freak him out during that incomplete evening and one past evening before? If he was tired of her? Hardly it was so... But he frazzled her absolutely because of his rude behavior, disaffected tone of his voice, stupid jokes, and his slightly swollen face.

"Just several hours and all this is over. Are you a naughty boy? You can control yourself and simulate indifference. And I... I can enjoy this party, and communicate with interesing people, that's why do not disturb me! Is it clear?"

"Oh yes. So many morons lined up to meet Mother of Dragons."

"And? What's then?"

He smirked and said nothing.

"Great! That's so funny! You're angry and ready to splach your poison of some obscure agression to everyone, and then give a similarly poisonous smile. Of course, maybe you think you're so unmatched, but however you look bad, unlike much more imposing stars than you. That's why you shouldn't exalt your ass on a too high pedestal. Cause you can loose your own, not a very high one, if you won't wake.

"You're right. I'll shut up and keep silence. And act this," he depicted a figurative smile on his face. "By the way, Clarke, don't forget that I'm out of the queue for you. Without a rival."

She strained her nostrils. _Incredible impudence!_ She closed her eyes and sighed, and smiled widely next moment; smile as figurative as his one. Too many people around.

"Keep calm youself, Kit. I don't mind. Only one plea for you: don't you dare spoil this evening if you want us still be friends."

  
*******

_God, here it is, her sweet hotel suite. Few steps forward, and she'll enter it, she'll dissapear behind the door, and become herself..._

_God! Harington could switch himself..._  And he couldn't spoil remaining evening by his toxicity. He went away a little earlier than she did, leaving her with her friend. She hoped so much that he would sleep it off and become good. Or, maybe, it could be much more better if she avoid meeting him again untill his departure.

Unexpectedly, the door of her room was opened itself. She crossed the threshold cautiously and... saw the painfully familiar figure, dressed in black...

"What are you doing here, Kit?! What the..."

 _Fuck!_ She opened her clutch quickly and found that her electronic key wasn't there.

"How... could you do this?! How and when have you managed to steal my key?"

"That's not the first time, when I have to spin, evade, and do heinous things to get to you. You may consider it like some conditioned reflex," his voice sounded imperturbably. He was calm but frowned.

She opened her mouth to release a huge flow of her various emotions to him. _Unbelievable insolence, impudence, and absolute petty tyranny!_

"Get out! I'm so tired and I'm disable to go on this night speaking with you. You've already made so many 'good' things by your 'sweet' mood this evening."

"Silent and sit down", he said shamelessly and pushed the door behind her back.

"You dare not!"

"Silent and sit down", he repeated and pointed to the sofa by the palm of his hand. "Just here."

She realised that she had no power to quarrel with that asshole. It was much more better to succumb and to relent - so he would't be able to fuck her brain. Just fall to the sofa and try to calm herself. She tossed a clutch to the low glass table, flopped on the soft seat and stretched her tired legs; then she reached over straps of her bloody shoes to undo them.

"Please, leave them. I beg you... So beautiful", he said.

"Actually, I'm tired".

"If you can stand it, please leave for a short time. For me..."

Her hands crossed on her chest and made her closed. Eyebrows furrowed with displeasure, full red lips pouted. She watched him in silence when he sat down to the armchair opposite her, spread out his body in an unceremonious position, as he was at home, and closed his eyes for a minute. Then he took a cigarette and burnt it.

"What the fuck, Harington! Take your fucking cigarettes and get out!"

"I said, silence."

He didn't look at her. He was thinking about totally his own like she was absent in that very room. His body occupied an armchair in a very relaxed manner; fingers of his right hand anbuttoned the jacket, then untied his bow tie, and then unbuttoned the collar of his black shirt. The shred of black silk was tossed to the low coffee table; he took the prepared glass of champagne and shook off ashes of his burning cigarette.  
He was relaxed and calm, watching the grey particles of ash goining to the bottom of glass slowly, as if nothing had happened.

She shook her head, still silent like he was. He looked like a naughty boy with his pouted lips, went deeply into himself, betrayed and offended by the whole world. It looked like there was somebody else guilty in his troubles, but not he.

He felt her gaze, he answered her by his own dark, squinted slightly, tightening by cigarette and releasing a cloud of muggy bluish smoke.

"Why the fuck I tolerate all this?" she said reservedly. "Why the hell you dragged your ass here? Go away and smoke somewhere else... You haven't recovered after your previous misadventure, and now you're looking for a new one... Please, look at yourself."

"I've come here to a friend of mine," he responded softly and looked down to his ashy champagne again. "And friends are used to support and to condemn not."

"You need Morpheus*, not a friend. Just sleep..."

"I need you. I can't stand it, Clarke. I fucking need you..." he winced and closed his eyes tightly for some seconds. "Hell..."

"Need me for what?" she asked. He stared at her gently and tilted his relaxed head sideways, so she read everything in that gesture and gaze. She sighed deeply and wistfully, and frowned again. "We promised that we'll stop and never do it again, Kit. I'm your friend, O'K, even now I'm ready to listen to you. But what about a new dose of pain for me - I refuse. I don't want a pain anymore."

"Only pain?"

"Yes, kitten. Pain, damnit. I'm full of pain when I'm thinking about how well we are with each other, how well we fit to each other, but completely incapable to join our lives forever. We decided that the others should become our life partners. And we convinced of this fact many times, we convinced of, cause it's right. We completely decided, Kit. Long ago..."

"Well, yes. How many times did we give the word to ourselves? And we broke this word as many times. Every time with no doubt..."

The force that was attracting them to each other through space and time was the most powerful in the world. _She is his weakness, he is hers._ They're both defective, abnormal, incorrect. Their invalid, sick love drove them mad! But... they were happy together... Especially, when they disappeared from the eyes or the others, hidden from the rest of the world; then they were burning the stars on the sky, touching them, and bringing them to each other. Their bodies and souls were absolutely created one for another.

But the Mind has dissenting opinion...

All that was very sweet untill overdoze came. Every time, both of them felt it.  
She dissolved and lost herself, she flew blind with happiness and even started to plan thier joint life till the end of her days. She spoke nonsense, let the illusion occupy her brain, shone insanely. She was like overactive girl. He blathered some heresy, repeated her openly that it pissed him off and got slaps of her palms on his face; he joked evil, closed himself, and laughed as an idiot. There was too much of her for him, she was very hot, too hot. She was the unbearably intence flow of colourful lights and various sounds, blended in cacophony. She was a mix of motley emotions, he's not used to. Actually, he wasn't a good boy, but he knew the meaning of restraint and lady's nobility - his ideal, absorbed since his childhood. This idol was stronger than that violent fiery desire, flashing up next to him being with her.

A giant fire burnt down within seconds, too bright, too hot; and he wanted, _he dreamed_ , to get warm slowly nearby another one, modest and small fireplace, all his life long... He found it, perfect and suitable, but sometimes he felt an oppressive sorrow, sitting by that slow and discreet hearth. It felt like too cold, too secure, and too safe; that light was too dim, that sweetness was too tasteless and boring.

_His Sunny, his Emilia, can make him laugh so happily like nobody can; she can make him feel too well and too comfortable, so it frightens him very much. She excites and makes him feel drunk as she's some kind of drug._

He became like a child - that's why he always returned to reality, rejecting her with a pain. Because all that wasn't like anything he was taught. _No carelessness, no euphoria._ He studied consciousness and responsibility, and drugs were totally blamed...  
  
"I'm not yours, Kit. Friend, but..."

"You're mine," he stood up. _Fuck all wise brainy teachings!_  His mind was almost lost that night...

"No," she answered and turned her head away when he came close and sat on the floor beside her feet.

"So, become mine again... Be mine, Emilia."

"It's wrong," she said when their eyes met each other. "I have to let you go. You have to let me go. We agreed to do it, but now you want to use me selfishly, knowing quite well that I still alone. If I let you touch me now, that will mean my absolute unavailability to find somebody else..."

Suddenly, she interrupted her speech. In that very second she understood: she was really unavailabile. She wanted not to be with anybody, but...

  
And she hated the thought that she really would close that door forever. She hated the thought that he could never tell her name in so beloved intimate manner, never touch her, never kiss her, never take her small hand into his wide in more than friendy way.

He made her heart stop and jump of happiness. He excited her much more than the most unrestrained and rapid roller coaster.

_He's both affectionate and bold, he's both brain and idiot. She hates his episodic rudeness and tyranny, but she knows he's good. She knows that he's like a little boy, playing with masks, and he's afraid of himself beside her._

He fought with himself for his idols. She tried to get into the place in his mind, where his childhood ideal lived; tried to inscribe herself, so imperfect and so informal, into his perfect world. And everytime it happened, he broke her attepmts and built a huge wall between them.  
  
She also was scared of herself...

Especially when he reached out the strap on her right ankle and undid it. He pulled off her shoe gently and smacked with regret, staring at her reddened and slightly swollen foot, then blew on her inflamed skin. He undid the second shoe, freeing her left foot, then caressed her feet softly.

Not a bit agression, not a bit hubris or arrogance. Not a word, sounding like causticity. Only a loving gaze of his deep dark eyes full of tenderness.

_He's both a scum and the love of her life._

She strained her feet, clicking with knuckles. Ache became sweeter when those bloody heels were removed. She was going to bend her legs, but he clasped her ankles and stopped her.

His dark brown eyes looked into her green-blue. _Be mine. Just here and just now._  
  
"Let me go!" she said.

"No, Emilia."

She was disable to speak. She gasped and trembled as he touched her toes and rubbed them lightly. Her body replied his caress by a sweet pulse in her lower abdomen. But then she stiffened a little because of her not very clean and sweaty feet in his hands, she found it unpleasant and awkward, but he didn't care. _Yes, damnit, he always don't mind such things!_   Yes, she knew him quite well...

_And if tomorrow she'll meet somebody else, she'll have to grow used to him for years and years. No! She shouldn't lie to herself - she'll never grow used to! She'll never be so close to any man, besides that one, sitting at her feet._

He stroked the aching skin of her toes gently. Her ravenous body betrayed her, giving up more and more with every second.

"Kit..." her voice itself was more eloquent than meaning of words.

He kissed her feet and added whispering, "You same want it so much..."

She closed her eyes.

They were standing the test of being apart for several months. They promised, they suffered. They probably could dare it, but they lost. It was too hard to comprehend it... One more effort was thrown to hell!

She raised her eyelids, and there, in those wide pupils of her pretty drunk eyes, he found her voiceless _'Yes'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Morpheus = an ancient Greek god of dreams


	2. Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night is going on...

"You're an asshole, you know?" her voice was weakened, and he showed his incomparable bold smile when his hands moved from her toes to her knees under the heavy black fabrique of her dress. She laid on the sofa, relaxed and weak, but already able to continue their night, whatever it was. "Oh yes, you even refuse to hide this fact..."

She hadn't already resist and fight, she desired him, but sadness overtook her against her will, maybe because of an alcohol, or fatigue after that ceremony evening. Her eyes moistened lightly, lips lost their soft smile that beautified her face several seconds ago. Everything repeated again - she gived up. She recognized and copmletely accepted her weakness. _This vicious circle will never be broken!_ She knew, all that was vile and dirty, she blamed herself for that she didn't care about his non-freedom, engagement, his life plans, that excluded her. _She'll never be his wife, they'll never have children or a house to belong to them both. She'll watch his happy family life from media, from pages of fucking magazines._

And, admitting her love to that scum, refusing everything for some sweet and happy moments, one day she probably would stay single and unnecessary former actress of 'Thrones'... They would probably meet each other to fuck somewhere in hotels, far from the rest world, like they did that entire minute. _Lying and hiding forever._

He stared at her attentively, peered into each feature of her face, relishing touch of her skin under the heavy black skirt. He understood that she was thinking of some sad things. She widened her eyes; her evebrows betrayed her thoughts, and her chin winced eloquently.

She stretched her leg and touched his face by her toe, gliding his beard. "You're selfish... You want to get all at once. That's dishonest and unfair."

"I know. Forgive me." His face was also serious when he grabbed her foot and pressed one delicate kiss to her toe. "I'm a scum, who loves you, and you love me, I know. This is awful, but lying to yourself is far worse, my sweet."

She took her foot away from his face, arched her back, and slid down to the carpet next to him. Sofa behind her spine, head thrown back with it's short blonde hair, scattered on a soft suede seat. _She's so beautiful, unbelievably sweet, vulnerable, fragile, weak._ He adored seeing her cry. He cursed himself for that, but couldn't help admiring her being sad. She wasn't aping, giggling stupidly, playing a mischievous girl. She was a woman to the core; the most desired, the most tremulous woman.

"If you tell me go away, I'll go, leaving you here alone." he said. "But you want it not, neither do I. We both poisoned by each other. It's fucking fate, disease, or something else... Damn life, and yes, it's not like in fucking books."

She swallowed, staring at him mutely. He also lost his disguise at that moment and he was telling the truth. She knew that she drove him crazy both close to him and apart. He couldn't live with her as he couldn't without. And if he would lose her, he would look for some another dope and never find any satisfying one, able to replace that love.

_So, two grown-up people desired each other. Was there any chance for tears appearance? No, cause time waits for no man!_

"So, leaving?" he repeated.

She shook her head and he approached her instantly. He cupped her cheek by his palm, deep dark eyes gazed intently. He caressed her face, touched her earlobe by his thumb, and then brushed her tears away. Reacting to his touching, she lowered her eyelids and opened red mouth. She was changing her feelings, and at that very moment her sadness was flying away.

He touched her scarlet lips and she gasped, ready for kiss. And he gave it to her, without asking anything else. First, he was kissing her softly and consolingly, but when she placed her palm to his nape, the pressure of both their mouths intensified. In few moments, tongues weaved themselves deeply, causing their moans and desire even to bite each other.

She broke the kiss for a second, and stared at him with her drunk and wet eyes; her lipcolour was still, but it's edges were slightly blurred. "I love you, Harington, damn you," and resealed his mouth by her own, giving him no opportunity to say a word.

They were kissing on the floor of her suite, sweetly, greedily, with moans... They trembled of each other and of an anticipation of their following night to spend together. Two, a man and a woman, only two in their own invented world.

His tongue left her mouth and touched a spot under her chin, then moved down with a long wet stroke reaching V-decollete of her dress...

"God, I missed you so much... You're so unreal," he stared at her breasts, partially visible in the angular neckline of black corsage. "So sweet..." He glided a cleavage of her breasts and slipped his finger to a tight space between her decolette and her skin. "Thanks to God, the jacket was able to hide my hard erection. I could't control it all this evening, staring at this beauty."

Her targeted lips bent in a smile. "It's a quite luxurious dress, but I'm really sick of it."

"Not dress, but you drive me mad. So gorgeous, very delicious."

A couple of seconds later his face was already within 'V' of her decolette. He inhaled her fragrance and felt some perfume, vainly trying to interrupt the own, perfectly sweet, scent of her skin. He grabbed her by the waist, lifting her on her knees and pressing her to his body; his fingers found a zip of her dress and lowered it to the end.

He caressed a soft skin of her spine, shoulders, and neck, kissing her lips desperately, then pressed his chest to hers, put her to the carpet covered floor, and stood up on his knees above her staring with hundry dark eyes.

A corsage weakened, freeing her breasts under the heavy black dress, that was lying easily on her body. He could take it off smoothly, but he didn't; he only put his shaking palms to her and gazed at her pretty breasts, popped out the neckline.

"Please, Kitten, just take it off," she begged.

"No. I will not. I want to undress you slowly, not like an insane beast," he said, but his eyes were already predatory. "Believe me, I'm ready to lift up this bloody skirt and fuck you immediately, but it's not so intriguing, like torturing us a little."

"Say it again!"

"Oh, I want to lift your skirt and fuck you hard just here on the floor, cum in you and make you cum together with me, like it often occured."

She felt some kind of orgasmic wave, approaching headily of his words. She felt a wetness, dripping intensely outside her burning cunt.

His legs were planted on their knees on the both sides of her body. He pulled her dress down slowly, naking her flesh, staring at it, and devouring each square inch of her creamy skin by his insatiable dark eyes. She grabbed her breasts and started to squeeze and rub them, so he stopped her corsage under her ribs, dived his face between her hands, and took a deep breath between his clenched teeth. He replaced her palms by his own and licked her sweet cleavage, as she took her dress and dragged it lower to her hips. Then she seized his hair on the nape with her moans, as his mouth was wandering from one hard pink nipple of her tightly squeezed breasts to another; he sucked them and nibbled with following tender licks.  
  
All her body was completely ready to be fucked various ways in various places of it. Her mouth, her hands, her breasts, her both holes between her thighs were aching for his pervasive hard cock. But he hadn't even removed his bloody jacket!

"Kit... bed..." she groaned. "And finish this fucking dress!"

He lifted himself above her and moved back to take her dress off, but he only reached her knees, cause he saw her pretty round hillock under the tiny black string-panties. She moved upward to complete freeing herself from heavy black fabrique, but he grabbed her hips, getting her back. He touched her cunt covered by thin black silk, moved his thumb up and down slowly and lightly as she spread her legs in invitation and moaned, biting her lower lip.

"Oh, yes," he closed his eyes and gasped, slightly shaking his head as he couldn't believe all that wasn't a dream. "I can feel your heat and your sweet smell. You miss me as much as I do."

He stood up and lifted her from the floor so quickly, so she was almost frightened. _She's naked - he's fully dressed. But, God, now he is taking her to bedchamber!_

 

*****

  
He almost chucked her to bed, clasped her thighs and pulled her closer, positioning her body conveniently for himself. He was fucking tyrant, but she adored it... She grabbed lapels of his jacket to remove his bloody clothes, but he took her hands and pressed them upwards her head. Their lips met each other again and started their desperate moves, his tongue attacked her mouth and almost made her losing her breath.

"God, you're incredibly sweet," he whispered.

He lifted above her on his knees, pressed into the edge of the bed, to view at her enticing body. Sweet breasts, soft skin, juicy lips, with moans and groans outgoing between them. _She's cosy and tactilely perfect._ She called him to explore her body again and again, despite the fact that they knew each other quite well.

His swollen-vein-hands were wandering through her creamy skin. He drowned in the scent of her, squeezed and glided her flesh by his slightly shaking palms, made her tremble and crawling happen.

She was being sweaty all evening long, but he didn't care. He loved that salty taste and that scent that drove him crazy, and he told her about that adoration many times. He grabbed her by her waist, made her arch her spine, and paved the wet way of his tongue from her ribs to the edge of her black string-panties; then he clasped the elastic silky fabrique by his teeth, drew it off, and released it with a sharp slap; so she cried out a little bit.

He sat on his knees on the floor and spread her thighs widely; strings were still on her. He bited slightly her black silk covered folds and lifted his gaze to meet her one. Oh, her eyes were so drunk, and all of her was completely defenseless and helpless, and ready for him.

He moved her tiny panties sideways and gasped. That magnificent view made his deep dark eyes become wider and the wild predatory smile appear at his face. He licked his lips. "God, how I missed your sweetness... mmm... so wet, and shameless, and ready for everything I can do..."

He noticed that the skin on her intimate zone was absolutely naked and smooth, like she was a little girl, but he's used to the accurate stripe of dark short hair being there. So, he realised, that she was preparing herself for their rendezvous. _'Lyer!'_ his eyes said with a smile as his thumb moved up from her cleft and down, gliding her pubis for several times, and then pulled the sensitive skin up, to expose her juicy flesh better.

He touched her clit by the tip of his tongue, lightly and softly, and teased her by it's fast shaking moves. She sobbed and twitched upward as she wanted to run away, but he brought her back, holding her thighs firmly and locking her in the opened position. His tongue moved down, licking her opening and gathering her juices, then entered her, and moved back and up to her bloodshot nub again. He did several laps of it, then sucked her sensitive clit zone into his mouth, and looked at her face. She couldn't see him cause she rolled her eyes back, arching her spine and shaking her hips, which were held on tightly by his hands. "Kit," she moaned, squeezing her breasts. "I can't shand it..."

Orgasm came close to her, while he went on caressing her aroused and even supersensitive clit by his mouth and stuck a finger into her hot, wet cunt. He added the second finger and moved deeper, and soon her walls clenched and pulsed, making her cry and twitch her legs intensively.

_Ready!_

His own arousal was bursting his pants. It burned of that delightful and sweet sight, of her smell, of the wet sounds, mixed with her moans and cries in pretty audio harmony, and of the fact she had cum so quickly from his arms and mouth.

_She's so full of life, she never pretends. She'll never fake it as her body can't lie._

She always got much pleasure and orgasms from him, and he was quite grateful to her for that, because it was a really great bliss to watch his woman going mad of love.

She shook her head, trying to lift her hardened eyelids.

"Oh, Kit... I can't stand it..."

"You can. You're my pretty good girl," he kissed the inner side of her thigh, lowered her panties down her ancles, and removed them at all. "Want more?"

"Yes," she gasped satisfyingly, "but not this way..."

She rallied with forces and sat up on the edge of the bed. Her hair was shredded, eyes drunk and wet with pleasure; her full lips were bitten by her own teeth, but scarlet colour of her magic resistant lipstick was still there.

She dragged him closer. Her small hands threw his jacket down, unbuttoned and unziped his trousers and pulled out his tucked black shirt...

"I want this," she touched his hard cock, covered by tight black boxers, and stroked it lightly and slowly, up and down. "How can you stand it? Now you'll fuck me briefly, but I want it to last long..."

"Well, whole night is our... And why do you think I couldn't prepare myself for our sexy actions, relaxing myself by my hand, just in the bathroom of this suite, before you came?"

She laughed, looking into his a bold eyes and at the shameless smile. "You're so unreal squirt, Harington. It's even a shame that I love you..."

"Tell me... Ah!" he gasped as she stiffened his cock in her palm through his underwear. "You're also were getting ready to our fucking tonight, weren't you?"

She narrowed her eyes and teased him with a smile. Yes, he was right, and she couldn't hide it anymore.

"So, your magic device* is still on?"

She couldn't convince herself to get rid of her contraceptive, because, damn it, she really hoped that her permanent partner wouldn't leave her life, even if they had decided to stop their relationship... _Yes_ , her gaze replied.

She pulled his trousers down his legs. Her hands shook with impatience. As he was quickly unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at her, two tiny hands had found his smooth and well-shaped globes under his boxers and pinched them a little. He naked his perfect torso, and she moved her palms upwards his firm press to his flawless chest.

The black shirt fell down, naking his well sculptured shoulders and hands. She touched his body unhurriedly as was watching him naked for the very first time. God, she missed him so much, every part and every curve of his perfect form; she missed his unique scent that couldn't be spoiled by any perfume or tobacco smoke smell. She stared at him greedily as she couldn't believe that he really was in front of her eyes again, _he, damn scum, incredibly sexy, impudent, and bold,_ and he was hers.

She gazed at his eyes when he placed his palm to her neck and caressed her earlobe by his thumb. They were tired that night, but also completely ready for each other.

"You even cannot imagine, how I was desiring to fuck you-blonde just during our sexy ship filming..."

She giggled."Really? We fucked like crazy beasts after that, did you forget?"

"No, but... Ah!" he cried out a little as she bit his still covered cock.

"Shut up, Kit," and she pulled down his underwear without breaking their eye contact. Black boxers fell down to his toes, and within seconds his naked cock was in all it's beauty just in front of her face. So perfect, so smooth, and ripe, well-shaped and incredibly-sized - less larger than she needed for comfort sex.

She slid off the bed, put her knees to the floor and held his lenth by both her palms... mmm, so sweet. She opened her scarlet lips ready to taste him. She ran her tongue over the red tip of his cock, touching it lightly, teasing him, making his groan escape his chest; then she shoved him into her mouth shallowly, and kept looking at his face. She sucked him in and released him fully for several times, holding a base of his pretty cock by one hand, gliding over his stones and his groin by another. It was so hard and so hot, so neither fatique, neither alcohol, or even his recent 'hand craft' couldn't deprive his ability to be strong and fully erect...

She released his cock from her mouth again, went lower, and pressed a tender kiss of her red lips to his balls, and licked the bottom side of his lenth with a long and slow stroke from the root to the tip and back, several times. And her eyes were still on his ones.

"God! So magnificent view!" he gasped.

Her lips were still reddish of her lipcolour, blonde hair was tousled, and her creamy skin glistened of her sweat. She stood in front of him on her knees, wearing her diamond necklace only; her mouth was busy with his cock, so she was disable to chat or laugh. She was acting otherwise, sliding along his entire lenth, grabbing his buttocks and pushing his cock deeply between her full and juicy red lips, moaning lewdly, filling her mouth with his flesh, and devouring it greedily. And she looked, _she stared_ , at his face all that time long. _She, his pretty little slut with a face of an angel._

His eyes seemed to be absolutely black, she knew that his pupils were utterly widened, he adored staring at her in such moments very much. He could put his hands to her nape or even grab her hair roughly, and force his penetrations to her throat, making them as deep and wild as he desired. She wouldn't mind that at all... He could put her on the bed and fuck her mouth possessively, filling her overhand, and make her lose her breath, but he decided not to do that...

He cupped her face gently, pulled out his cock from her mouth with a wet pop, and sat down in front of her. "What do you want for yourself, my love?"

"You..." she whispered. She barely touched his lips by her own and bit them slightly. "All I want is you, damn it..." she closed her eyes and whispered again "All I want is always you, being with me."

He took her over her waist and put to the bed. He also always desired her. It was insane, but if he would safisfy himself with her eternally, he would never get content.

"Fuck me," she groaned to his ear when he was on her and her legs clasped his hips. "Cum deep in me. That's all I want - you being with me, on me and inside me all this night."

She kissed him again, but he drew back to meet her eyes. He was ready to enter her, both desired to be joint.

"I love you to impossibility, Emilia," he whispered. "You're the most fantastic creature in the world."

He closed his eyes and took a slow sigh, like she did, when his cock entered her wetness, slowly, stretching her hot inner walls, aspiring to occupy all her depth. He bit her shoulder lightly, not moving, gasping, as it was some kind of torture, some hysterical, critical, vital moment in both their lives. The frenzied pulse of their bodies proved that very well, and yes, it was quite urgent for them.

She caressed the backside of his neck and his nape with some consoling and even motherly touch. _God, they're being together again!_ It was so sweet moment, because they stopped being deceived and returned to their strange and desperate love.

He pushed his cock inside her with one long, deep, and slow move, and went on in this rhythm, savoring each moment of their contact, trying to feel and to sense whole of her. Their lips met each other again, entered their sweet and passionate fray. She hold him by her hands and her legs, going mad of the weight of his well built body and of the way it slided over her own, a soft one, moistured by their sweat. He grabbed her too, held so tightly. _Her_ , that unbearably sweet tiny woman, _his woman_. And yes, he was a selfish scum, an asshole, and also a complete addict, disable to live without his dope. He could only pretend being alive without her cause she represented that very vital force that brought him a real sweetness of life.

She moaned his name again and again with each thrust. She knew that he desired to fuck her hard, and he would do it less later, and she wanted it too. But at that entire minute there was something special in those slow moves. It was the manifestation of tenderness, warmness and care with regards to her feelings.

He kissed her earlobes. "God, I love you so much, baby," he whispered, and she arched her spine, stuck nails into his shoulders and his back, then moved her hands to the cheeks of his arse, and put her palms to side dimples of his strong muscles as they were created especially for her hands. She felt the energy under his skin, those pulses that were slightly increasing with every beat of her heart. He crucified her inner walls till they ached sweetly, and even there were too much of him, but she adored it. She adored when he touched her farthest point, first softly, and later emphatically like he knocked at her womb.

She pushed him towards her more confidently, and his pace became sharper and more assertive; it was also long and deep, but faster.

He lifted above her, took her thighs, and pressed her legs with their bent knees to her body. His shameless dark eyes stared at the place they were joint.

"Incredibly fantactic pleasure..." he groaned, "...to watch me fucking you. Wish you could see it."

He enjoyed watching how his cock was dissapearing in her cunt, then exiting almost fully to disappear again deeply in her wetness. Her inner lower lips were swollen with blood, it was so hot and so tight to be inside her. He thrusted her with wet slaps, caused the vibrative waves run over her body. Her wet breasts, two sweet hemispheres, shaking with his pace, were squeezed between her bent legs, and he put his fingers into her cleavage, then touched her nipples, one after another, twisting them instinctively. She screamed out a little of that violent sweetness, of his increasing thrusts, as his cock started to beat inside her, causing her womb shrink and throb so pleasurably. Her small fingers went to her clit and began to rub it.

"It's pity, I can't put my tongue there. It would be so fantastic to fuck you deeply and to lick you at once."

He removed her palm by his own and squeezed her hillock some unbelivable way, roughly, but like she needed to stimulate all her sensitive points. He touched her aching clit by his fingertip and made her tremble and scream louder, losing all her thoughts in her mind. Her incredible sensuality and pleasure, reflected in her ruddy and sweaty face, as in whole her body, pushed him to the abyss of madness. He fucked her hard, but he couldn't realise, at which moment he took that very rhythm; he only knew that they both loved it so much and missed it for a long time.

She lifted her drunk eyes, met his dark ones, and reached out him. "Come to me," she gasped; she wanted to feel the weight of his muscular body on her, all it's captivity and her surrender.

He did it for her, and pressed a kiss to her mouth, deep and greedy. She hugged him again by her legs and her arms. She needed no manual stimulation at this position as all her sacred spots were on contact. Their bodies were so unimaginably and so obviously created for each other, and so appropriately they met that night. They met to become drunk of fucking happiness, real, pure, and, vital happiness. They met to love each other, to dissolve in one another, to join in one whole, to breathe the same air.

His hands held and lifted her arse, he pressed her shoulders stronger by his weight, and felt her hardened hipples imprinted in his chest. He bit her sensitive neck as she started to slide her palms over his shoulders and spine, to drown them in his silky black hair, scented by cigarette smoke, so rude and so dear smell.

"Oh, fuck me," she moaned of pleasure, her body burned in sensation of huge arousal wave, coming closer and lifting higher in each second. "Fuck me!"

He held her round arse cheeks tighter, bringing them closer with each hard thrust and groan, escaping his mouth. She was ready to cum as well as he was. Just few body slaps, few moves in her tight and sweet depth, and he felt how it darkened in his eyes. She cried out his name, bent under his pressure, took a deep breath, and blew it out with a prolonged scream, rolling her eyes and trembling.

"Yes, God..." he groaned, and his body was attacked by endless creep as the sweet burden in his hips let him go, and he released. Her inner walls pulsed violently around his aching cock as he spurted his seed into her hot wetness as deeply as it was possible. He held her thighs so possesively as he wanted never let her go.

They stopped moving, and time was frozen. They were only listening to their heartbeat, one pulse for two.

"I love you," she whispered to his ear, gliding his shoulders and spine by her soft fingertips.

"I love you too," he gasped.

Their eyes met each other, half-mad, half-drunk, shamelessly happy, and wet. He kissed her lips gently and lovingly and freed her body from the pressure of his weight, falling down beside her.

So, they returned to their addiction, to their sweet and desperate habit - to be with each other with no regrets. Maybe, nobody could understand them... How those two so convenient people, disable to live without each other, could't to be completely together? Maybe it should be called selfishness, or cowardice, or stupidness, or fate, or intolerance, or irresponsibility, or something else. But actually, there was one word to name this phenomenon - _Love_. It was violently bright, abnormally strong, sick, and wrong love, but sweetest in the whole world.

He caressed her ruddy and sweaty cheek, removed her wet hair from it.

"I think, hell's already waiting for us since tonight," her voice was hoarse and the smile was tired a little.

"Don't worry, you're angel..." he whispered, touching her sweet lips by his finger. "Hell is not a place for you... And I... Yes, I've already sold my fucking soul to the Devil, when I met you one day..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *device = IUD, intrauterine device, contraceptive.


	3. Play!

They were lying for some time, fully quiet, calm and weakened.

He wanted to smoke, but it was absolutely impossible to look away from her. She was very special in that recently fucked condition, when her heartbeat wasn't yet normalized, and eyes were still drunk. She was even more beautiful of her, being sad. She looked happy, satisfied, warm, and calm. His _dream-woman_.

She climbed his body as she wanted to feel him lying relaxed under her at that minute. _Oh, so strong, so wonderful..._  "Kitten, how are you?", she broke the silence.

"Absolutely awesome," he mumbled with a blessed smile.

"So, you're going on alive?"

"Oh yes..." He closed his eyes and took a deep sigh.

She lifted her blonde head, her fingertips drowned in his curles and made him purr of that tender pleasure. Words were unnessecary...

There were so mush things told several minutes ago by the most breathtaking and wonderful way, ever invented in the world... Several minutes ago there were so much heat, noise, and excitement, but later they found together lying peacefully near each other, and they knew, it wouldn't last for long.  
  
"Well, well..." he smiled and opened his eyes, lifting his head. "What's this?."

She felt the moisture between her folds, not because of arousal for that moment, but of his seed, leaking outside her body to his thigh.

She fell down beside him.

"Sorry, I should go to a bathroom and wash myself," she smiled and took an attempt to stand up, but he stopped her by his strong hand and pressed her back to the bed.

"Do you know, what's this?" he touched her cunt, stroked his finger between her lower lips, and slightly slapped her entrance. "It's my mark. This means that you're mine."

She smiled. "And now it's time to undo it."

"Ok, I'll even do it myself," he licked her lips, kissed her and bit her mouth a little with the predatory smile. "And then I'll mark you again."

"Fucking pervert," she chuckled when he got up and gave her a hand.

"Yes," he answered with no shame."And you like it..."

*****

In the bathroom she erased an evidence of their sex contact, washed her hands and started to wash up her makeup from her face. He brought his cigarettes and sprawled on the small bathroom banquette, lit, and released a cloud of smoke to the ceiling.

"You're going to smoke over my suite and poison the air everywhere, aren't you?" she turned on the water in a spacious shower that was no more, but a section of tiled floor, surrounded by glass partitions.

"This is not your suite, but ours," he smiled abruptly and pointed his finger to the glass shower door. "Now go. I'll join you soon."

And she did it with the great pleasure. A warm water streamed over her body, washing away all the dust of that day. She was so tired; she sweated in her perfect Miu Miu dress, exhausted her feet by bloody heels, and then she soaked in the smell of her lover. It was a hard day, and evening, and night, and it wasn't complete. Thanks to God, there was only recreation, waiting for her ahead, no tortures. _Well, yes, torture, but very sweet one._

She soaped her hair and even was washing her shampoo away, when he entered the shower, stood beside her, and lifted his head to meet the warm water flow, effusing from the ceiling like a rain. It was a spacious place for them, two small people, and there was no reason to divide the territory with one another.

She took the sponge and poured out some shower gel, soaped her shoulders and neck, while he was standing back to her and washing away his shampoo.

She pinched his back cheek and made him cry out a bit.

"Your arse is so perfect. It's even better than mine," she smiled.

"What?" he wiped away the water on his face, stared at her and smiled too. "It's nonsense and bullshit. Nothing compares to these butts" he grabbed her arse by both his hands and slapped it with relish. "So sweet, ripe, shameless ass..."

He turned her back, took her sponge and washed her spine, getting down to his knees, then slapped her wet cheeks again and washed them too. He made her spread her legs a little and arch her spine, so he stroked her between her thighs by the soapy sponge. "And you also have this," he touched her cunt by his finger, "and this," and touched her tight upper entrance. "Your ass is the coolest in the world... Especially, when I do so..." he stood up and pressed her to the tiled wall.

She gasped and chuckled, when he started to slide on her soapy spine, pressing her tightly. Oh, he was ready to stick in her juicy opening - she felt his hardened and hot cock between her round buttocks.

"Where you let me come? To your greedy pussy or to your sweet ass?

"Ah, Kit! Your tyrant mode is on again!" she said jokingly. "Not here. It's rude..."

"Sorry," he drew back. "Well, you didn't mind this rudeness before."

He kissed her shoulder softly, she smiled wearily.

"I like it, but now I'm not in mood for being pressed and fucked in this shower. I'm a little tired... A you... You're an evil asshole!"

"Yes, I am. And you're my angel," he kissed her lips briefly. "Dirty, lewd angel with gorgeous ass."

She took a sponge from his hand, stroked his face, leaving a huge wisp of foam there, and laughed, causing his rough laugher in response.

"Even your laugher is evil," she said and mimicked him with her voice.

"And you do like..." he threw his head back, widened his mouth and shook, mocking at her, and she almost fell down to the floor because of her frantic laugher. She bent in half and threw off the shampoo from the shelf inadvertently. A couple of seconds later she took the flacon from the floor, opened it and released thick soapy spurt to his chest...

"Oh! Look! I marked you!" she was barely able to speak, laughing so cheerfully together with him, so the sound reflected from the glass walls and rattled in their ears. "I cum to you and you're mine!" She started to smear the soap on his chest by her small palms, then grabbed the backside of his neck and clashed their bodies with the thick slap. Her breasts slipped on his chest as she went on shaking of giggling.

He grabbed her whole by his strong hands and shut her up by the rough kiss of his mouth and tongue. She stopped her childish joking immediately and moaned, moving her lips greedily. One step backwards, and they brought themselves under the rainy shower. It's warm and mild jets drenched their bodies carefully, washed all shampoo away, and two were kissing, fervently, passionately, desperately.

"I love you, Emilia," he said, gazing at her pathetically while rinsing his skin from the rest of the soap.

"I love you too, asshole" she smiled mildly, washed the foam away and put her lips to his once again.

*******

She wrapped herself in a soft and cosy bathrobe. He wiped his body and tossed the towel away, preferring to stay fully naked.

She smiled, looking at him. _Absolutely sexy scum, especially handsome with his wet hair._  But his exterior and it's access for her again wasn't a real reason of her smile, but his decision to refuse dressing gave her that joy.

It was a manifestation of devotion, emancipation and full comfort, and, as he was a real intravert, she was absolutely pleased of his behavior.

So, that meant she could create that very devotion, could make him feel quite well beside her. And it was her little victory, achieved long time ago. It was the essence of their relationship itself - the feeling of real buzz of being together.

She went to the hall for taking care of her abandoned dress. He was doing the same to his suit, when she returned to the bedroom. And he was still completely undressed.

"God!" he shouted suddenly when he turned his head from her as he saw something interesting.

"What's the matter?"

He went to the large stand-alone mirror by the wall not far from the window... "Look! Baby, it's amazing!"

She giggled. "It's just a mirror... Oh yes! You've found yourself there and admire the way you look with your curls and, maybe, you resting cock!"

"No," he twitched his eyebrows with a bold smile. "Amazing fucking with the mirror in front of the bed..."

He dragged it immediately and put to another wall, so bedside appeared in it's reflection.

He gazed at her throgh the mirror. "Look! Our audience is waiting for us. That sweet blonde, you see..."

He pointed to her and their eyes met with the smiles. Then he switched on the nearest table lamp, gathered the torcher and switched it too.

"You miss your theatre, I suppose," she said with a smile, uncovering their bed. Then she found a conditioner remote control and tried to set a relative mode...

When the environment was configured, she looked at him again. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the mirror in front of, but didn't see himself at all. His dark eyes were defocused, he was somewhere in his mind, sitting with the palm on his chin, rubbing his beard.

She came close to her lover and returned him to their world...  
  
He woke immediately, stared at her in silence with his shining eyes, grabbed the belt of her white bathrobe and brought her closer. Words were disable to be spoken at that very moment. Only tender passion was on.

He unbelted her soft robe to see and to feel her body again, so fresh, so soft, and so delicious. He explored her curves by his eyes, caressed them by his warm palms, kissed everywhere. His hands went up and found her breasts, sweet and wonderful, calling to touch them .

He put his nose to her cleavage as she put her fingers between his wet curles. His rough hands hugged her hips, caressed her pretty globes and rumpled them. She gasped and looked at his face of satisfied beast.  
She positioned herself on his knees, and he hugged her, and went on kissing, licking, and biting her nipples, gliding the smooth skin of her spine and lower. She drew back her breasts from his ravenous mouth and cupped his face to see his eyes, so deep and wet, with reddened scleras. He was tired, but he couldn't refuse driving their love forward that night.

Their lips met, mouths joint deeply and juicily, causing their moans and groans escape.

She pressed her core to his hot bloodshot cock, rubbing it by her clit. She was completely ready to be fucked once again, but he lifted her and put to her feet, then turned her to face the mirror, and filched the soft robe, undressing her fully.

"Look at this sweet blonde. She's ready to watch our fucking. Agree?"

She touched and caressed herself lightly, watching her naked body in a cosy soft light, and moaned in anticipation. "Yes," she answered and met his dark eyes in the mirror.  
He hugged her hips and brought her closer, his palms caressed her sweet belly, went down to spread her tighs, and touched her juicy opening between her smooth folds. He pressed her loin to bend her for better access to her cunt, and she did it, closing her eyes.

He kissed and bit her full buttocks, slapped them lightly. "Your arse is so gorgeous, baby. The best in the world."

He licked between her lower lips, moving them apart, pushed his tongue between them twice, deeply, then found her clit, slipped over her cunt up to her another hole, and stopped there, kissing. She gasped and almost lost her balance, but he caught her and planted her on his cock, so she cried out sofly. He ducked into her depth fully, and found her face in the reflection with no movings.

"Can you see this beauty?" he whispered to her ear. "We're so fucking pretty couple, baby."

"And tonight we're playing in porn," she said with a teasing smile.

"Yes," he bit her shoulder, and kissed her there, holding her thigh. "Spread you legs... wider... And now, look..." he hugged her waist and took a deep sigh, inhaling the wonderful scent of her wet hair. "Can you see this?"

She said nothing, just started to move up and down his cock, slowly, enjoying the fascinating view of their contact.

"Look, what loveliness," he said. His palm slided to her breasts, squeezed them one after another. "These sweet tits moving together with your pussy..." He moved his hand to the place they were joint. "So beautiful, so hot, and red... mmm..."

"And I love this," she held his accurate balls and began to direct them towards her moves, increasing her speed slightly. "And your cock inside me is sooo delicious."

He smiled and pressed another kiss to her shoulder.

"I knew you'll like this scene. With you, fucking me so sweetly... Love invading you different ways..."

"Kitten," she gasped, sat down to his cock, and stopped, then turned her head to meet his gaze. "Shut up and fuck me yourself. My tired legs are giving up."

"Done, my lady," he smiled. He hold her waist by both his arms and started to move up and down his lenth forcefully, letting her rub her aching clit herself. It was hard, and sharp, the way only he could act. She could't take such pace herself as she couldn't get so much pleasure from her own activity. She adored the way he drove her by his strong hands in his own delightfully rough manner.

He managed to fuck her and to stare at the mirror. And the picture in it's reflection was truly ravishing. Two beautiful actors, a man and a woman, drove thier beautiful love in a beautiful place. Two revelled their desire, as sweet as dirty, and so mad. Their bodies converged so perfectly, they knew many secrets of each other, and they went on dicovering something new every time.

"God," she moaned, and rolled her eyes back, bent hir spine, feeling some sweet and pulsing ache, and fire, that burnt brighter with each thrust of his cock. "What're doing with me?"  
She was tired, she could sleep like a child in her cosy bed, her body was going to give up, but it never refused invitation to love scene together with him. It was greedy for those moments, again and again it agreed to be loved, to be fucked, and she even defined that fact like something unnatural.  
And yes, she missed her lover for long months, she dreamed to get that for herself that night and she got... _And for now, with no doubts._

"I love you," he whispered, and let his eyelids fall, took a deep sigh with a delicious scent of her skin and her wet hair. He couldn't speak anymore, only groan, as he was increasing his pace, clashing their bodies with shameless wet slaps.

She arched her spine and put her head to his shoulder, going mad of their contact.

"I can't stand it, Kitten," she gasped; she almost felt somebody, being there in their room, and it became quite uncomfortable. "Let's change it..."

He said nothing, he took her deeper and held her tightly by his arms and legs, moved back and turned her on her stomach, without leaving her depth. He moved forward, positioning her comfortably for them both, and she took a pillow to cram under her belly.

He brought her legs together, bending her spine, so she could lift her arse and feel how her secret points were activated again in that very position. She liked it so much, when he was riding her that way, and she could relax and enjoy his rough fucking, that faithfully drove her to orgasm without a finger help.

He thrusted her once, and once again, slowly, as he was trying on the position. Then he clasped the backside of her neck and pressed her to the bed to avoid her slipping away from him, and thrusted again also deeply and little faster.

She was enjoying his pressure, the energy of his strong body, she was enjoying his domination and her submission, and she knew quite well, that he was under her own authority. Her sweet loud moans caused the speed up of his pace, so she ruled him too.

Yes, he also was under her reign. Joining with her, losing himself in her sweet depth, in her hot and tight wetness, he became blind. All surrounding picture, whole the world blurred, as he became a pulse itself. He became a heartbeat, as insane as the rhythm of his barely controlable body that was even swinging the bed.

She groaned and held him so tightly, and she never pretended, never played getting the pleasure. She remained being herself, _his little sensual bitch, wet, dripping, and unmeasurably sweet._  Her body was cramping up, he felt how close she was to her ecstasy, as close as he was.  
  
Just few seconds, just few movings in heat of their bodies, and yes! They did it again, together. They clashed for one last time, and she cried out and trembled of orgasm, with his roar when he filled her again, twitching inside her. He marked her again as his female. _She's his woman - his piece of stupidnees, piece of madness, and piece of pure love._

He bent his body to grab her shoulders, and kissed her neck. There were some red prints of his fingers on her skin.

"Forgive me, I'm a rude scum. I can't love you otherwise..."

"You can when you're not as hungry kitten as now..." she gasped...

_And you're always the best._

She smiled as remebered one thing she memorized long time ago, that handsome men are mostly bad lovers. That was nonsense, she knew. He was incredible, and he knew what she needed like nobody could.

_Nobody?_

She widened her eyes. What, if there were anyone better for her? What, if her perfect partner was waiting for her, while she stayed being blind of her current lover? He was her personal dope. Was she blind of it?

He freed her and lyed beside, caressed her back by his loving palm, and endless creep on her skin told her: _she was never blind! She was right all these years. And he's just the only one, he's the love of her life..._  It was an insurmountable fact, and she could't overcome it, like she couldn't remake him at all.

And, maybe, it was that very reason of that occasional happiness for them being together... Maybe she, so emotional, so changable as a child, or even as a wind, couldn't be happy another way. Maybe, she could feel real heat only after of being frozen, maybe she should fall down to the ground to feel the following flight on her wings...

She was drowning in her mind again. But why? He was there, so close to her... He gazed with his wonderful dark eyes, he touched her by his skillful hands, while she was thinking of something amiss...

He stroked her sensual lips, and she smiled sofly. "It looks like you're giving up," he said.

"That's truth" she replied.

"As you wish, love. Let's go to the shower, and sleep after."

"Go, I don't want to..."

He smiled gently "And what about erasing my mark?"

"Maybe, I want to leave it..."

He kissed her full lips, a tip of his tongue slid between them, and he whispered. "I wish you really want it. And I... I want..." he closed his eyes and took a deep sigh, "I want to smoke..."

He left her alone in the bed, and she settled on the pillow and wrapped herself in a soft blanket. She closed her eyes, hoping not to get asleep before his return. But she napped, lying back to him, when he appeared again... He touched her hair, she was still silent and calm... "Slepping, my sweet..." he gasped.

He joined her under their comforter and pressed his body to hers. The tobacco smell tickled her nose, his warm breath caressed her nape, and his fingers were drawing some tender stokes over her shoulder.

"I love you, Emilia... very much..."

She heard it, but didn't answer, she was still listening to his words. She wanted just be together, not to move, not to speak, just enjoy the silence and his body beside hers. She opened her eyes, and a second before she was going to turn and face him, he told her some words...

"Lying to yourself is a very bad thing. And I do it, destoying myself, as you noticed". He turned to his spine and stared at the ceiling. "What about my business, my family business, my house, my life partner, her support and concern, and our household... Actually, everything is perfect in my life" He stopped and took a deep sigh again, being silent for several seconds... "But when I imagine the happiest days, full of sunshine and children's laugher, I can see only you, Sunny... Only you with me, and I can't help it... You're sleeping, knowing nothing about the hell in my head... And in my damn soul... This hell, my sweet, is my fucking life..."

He said nothing more... Her eyes closed tightly, her core crouched, and her heart started to beat.

  
_Play, actress! Act the indifference! He's blind of endorphins and drunk, he' s tired, and now it's better not to believe him._

_Silent, Emilia! Don't give out youself! You're sleeping... Don't cry!_

_And if tomorrow he'll repeat these words, you may let your hope resurrect._

**Author's Note:**

> *Morpheus = an ancient Greek god of dreams


End file.
